


Completely Platonic Siblings

by Alzerak



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, How dare you no it's not!, Lies and slander it's completely platonic also it doesn't count for a NUMBER of reasons, Non-Penetrative Sex, Sansa gets her pussy ate and Jon gets a good meal win/win for all concerned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21838699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alzerak/pseuds/Alzerak
Summary: Jon and Sansa share a last night of peace before duty and responsibility overtake them.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 104





	Completely Platonic Siblings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



They should have been asleep hours earlier; in the morning, Jon would leave Castle Black forever; Sansa his only tether to whims of the world, but as with many nights beforehand, the two had sat together in quiet conversation, until Jon realised that Sansa had never been at the top of the wall at night, had never seen the starlight sparkling in the sky under the inky veil of darkness.

When, without thinking, Jon took her hand, Sansa allowed herself to be guided out the door. Ghost pricked up his ears and padded behind them as Sansa looked delighted by a little sprinkling of snow that was falling over Castle Black.

As they rose in the lift, Jon looked down to see Ghost lying watchfully below, and if Sansa was curious as to why Jon had taken her into the cold night, she did not show it, merely pressing herself flush to Jon’s side, her fingers entwining with his. 

Upon arriving at the top of the wall, Jon did not need to say a word, instead, he was satiated by the enchanted awe that spread across her face as she drank in the sight of the world blanketed by starlight spread across the firmament above them. 

For all that she tucked it away, storing it safely behind her walls of ice and steel, Jon was grateful to the small mercies of the gods that deep inside, Sansa still held her sense of wonder of magic, which Jon felt privileged to glimpse when it slipped past the protective mask she wore. 

He spent hours atop the wall, speaking with Sansa about everything and anything. Previous nights, they had spoken of death and darkness, and of family and home lost; but now their words were of light whimsy, of hopes and dreams stolen from lives not their own. 

Perhaps Jon should have seen it coming, felt it as he felt Sansa leaning against him for hours, her body moulded to his side as him arm cradled her close, yet his own wilful obtuseness shrouded his comprehension, until everything he suppressed erupted with the vivid, piercing blue of Sansa’s eyes directed at him, his skin thrumming and sparking with an energy unsuccessfully repressed. Sansa’s face was far too close to his, her breath dancing and tingling over his own as her eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips and back again, as she licked away a snowflake that that floated down to perch on her lips. 

Jon shuddered and intake of breath, and Sansa, almost imperceptibly, leaned in closer, slanting her head ever so slightly.

“Brothers of the watch,” Sansa whispered, so softly that Jon almost couldn’t hear her words, “they have no family.”

“Aye.” Jon gruffly responded, unable to calm his raging emotions, parting his lips in anticipation. 

“Down there,” Sansa bravely looked into Jon’s eyes, and her bravery gave him courage. “We cannot be ourselves. We must do our duty. Up here,” Sansa paused, seeming to gather herself. “Once. We do it once.” A _nd we put it behind us._

Jon understood. “Once.”

Sansa’s lips were so soft, so delicate and gentle, as they glided over his own, yet their touch stirred Jon in ways he had never been stirred so intensely before. Jon yearned to reciprocate with his own passion, to show Sansa how ardently his affections desired her, yet he stilled himself, forcing his hand away from cradling her head, stopping his mouth from searching her own as Sansa carefully explored, Jon allowing himself to be guided where she wished.

All too soon, Sansa pulled away, folding her arms demurely in her lap, a flush blooming on her cheeks. She was smiling, ever so slightly, yet smiling nonetheless, and Jon could not help his own smile from erupting.

Their ease was short-lived; and they faded away into a searing gaze of extreme intensity, and they took each other with passionate ferocity, the days of skirting around the tension between them causing a pressure that was ignited, not released, by the gentle kiss they shared moments before. Jon poured his passion into this kiss, and that passion was reciprocated in kind. Jon lost himself in the sensation of Sansa, writhing and twisting against, him, her body boiling against the biting chill of the cold night air. Sansa wrenched Jon away as he was lost in sucking against Sansa where her neck and jaw met, yet her grip was tight around him, as though she were loath to remove him.

“I want - I want.” Sansa begged, and Jon yearned to grant her her desires. “I want _more.”_

“Gods, _yes,_ Sansa, _anything.”_ Jon responded, holding himself steady as Sansa did not dive back into him. 

“But we _can’t_ let it get further.” Sansa continued, seeming to be bitterly disappointed in that reality. “There’s only one thing we can do past kissing, and-”

Jon was astonished into speech. “There’s other things we can do.” Jon corrected, and Sansa paused, her lips parted as she seemed to consider this new reality revealed to her.

“We can… _make each other feel good,”_ Sansa blushed. “Without _that?”_

“Aye.” Jon replied. 

“If it doesn’t go in.” Sansa negotiated with herself. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t count. No one will know.” 

Jon could only nod, spellbound as Sansa leaned in, before she paused. “I don’t know how to make you feel good though.” Sansa confessed. 

“That doesn’t matter.” Jon had no expectations from Sansa, yet her disappointment was visible from her words. “What I meant was,” Jon corrected. “Making you feel good will make me feel good, and if we want to - if you want do more, we can come to that afterwards.”

Sansa nodded, leaning in to kiss Jon again, sighing against his lips as he let her control the pace of their coming together. Soon, though, Sansa seemed frustrated at Jon’s inaction, huffing as his hands remained on her waist.

“Put my hands where you want me, Sansa.” Jon breathed. “Show me.”

Sansa guided Jon’s hands up her body, splaying them around her ribcage so his thumbs teased the sides of her breasts, which still bore the Wolf insignia she had painstakingly crafted and presented to him earlier that day. Sansa moaned into his mouth at that touch, so Jon gently moved his thumbs around the underswell of her breasts and over the nub of her teat as Sansa broke off her kiss to press her cheek against his own, sighing as Jon gently built up Sansa’s pleasure with gentle caresses until she was ready to escalate the sensation, guiding his hand to cup her teats fully, letting their weight rest in his hand and their sensation torment his breeches as Sansa continued to kiss him, only now, her own hands explored his body as she shuffled closer, straddling his thigh as she sought friction as she writhed her body against his muscles. 

“Touch me, please, Jon.” Sansa begged, swiping herself along his leg, yet Jon could not help making her speak more plainly. 

“I _am_ touching you, Sansa.” Jon replied, nipping her earlobe as he whispered to her. “ _Where_ would you like me to touch you?”

“M-m- my _cunny,_ please,” Sansa begged, erupting in a flush as she pressed herself against Jon so he would not see her mortification at her wanton words.

“Of course, love.” Jon replied, slowly moving down to apply the gentle pressure of a soft touch over the skirts of Sansa’s dress. 

“More.” Sansa begged sweetly, shifting to ruck her skirts up and Jon was nearly overcame by the sensation of her cunt, even feeling it through her underclothes, as his fingers began a gentle exploration, Sansa’s sweet little sighs and moans indicting what she liked. She had stopped kissing him, but Jon did not mind; if their only encounter gave Sansa and only Sansa some small smidgen of pleasure, Jon could live and die without regret. 

Jon bucked just as Sansa did when his skin tasted the touch of her unclothed cunt, slipping into the side of her smallclothes, and she did not seem disappointed, writhing her cunt against him as Jon teased her wetness around the lips of her cunny and gently applied arousing pressure to the apex of her flower. Jon worked agonisingly slowly, yet this gradual pace seemed to please Sansa very much, until she writhed over his hand, guiding his thickest finger to dip inside her cunny, shuddering with bliss as he hooked his fingertip to press against the pleasure spot inside her cunt, Sansa’s legs shaking unsteadily as she buried her face against Jon’s neck.

Jon pulled away, trying to steady his own raging arousal after he allowed Sansa to descend gently from her peak. 

“I -I want _more_.” Sansa pleaded, and for all their prior agreements of not letting it go further, Jon could no more withhold himself from her any more than he could withhold the tide.

“ _Anything,_ ” Jon replied, and the sight of Sansa lying back, hiking up her skirts and letting her legs fall open, presenting the sight of her pink cunt to Jon’s gaze momentarily struck him dumb, and Jon shifted down to worship her, gazing reverently at one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his life. But when he looked up, he saw Sansa confused, frowning at his positioning and the fact he was not untying his breeches.

Jon understood, and leaned down to kiss her inner thigh. “We can do other things, sweet one.” 

Sansa sighed at the kiss. _“There?_ ” Sansa asked. “ _You would kiss me there?”_

“I would kiss you anywhere.” Jon responded, kissing her other thigh, his breath tickling her cunny. “Anywhere you wished me to.” 

“And-and people do that? They kiss their ladies _cunnies?”_

“Please Sansa.” Jon did not have to pretend to beg, his face so close to the sweet treasure of her cunt, the smell intoxicating him, and Sansa showed mercy, indicating her permission by guiding his face into her cunt, keeping her fingers entwined in his curls as he laved along her cunny, far too quickly for his own desires to be slow and gentle, yet Sansa did not seem displeased as his amorous devotions, sighing his name softly as he forced his mouth to slow down. Yet he could not remain at such a slow pace forever, so he began to explore further, allowing Sansa to buck and writhe as she pleased, his tongue and lips performing an orchestra of pleasure with her most private place, his own cock jumping in his breeches as she pulled his curls when her pleasure spiked, yet Jon felt her hands disappear as he explored the soaking folds of her quim, delving his tongue up along the slit of her flower as he looked up to see her biting into her own forearms.

“Let go,” Jon instructed, between swiping his tongue over and dipping his finger into her cunny. “You can be as loud as you want here.”

Sansa let herself go, chanting Jon’s name as he brought her to a crescendo before stretching out her peak that exploded his name into the sky. Sansa took a moment to steady herself as she leaned up to plant a searing kiss against him, delving her tongue into his mouth with a sigh as she continued to search for the delicious friction he provided, yet before he could fulfil her wishes, she pulled away.

“What would you like, Jon?” Sansa asked, seemingly forcing her own desires down to ensure Jon would receive as much pleasure as she had been.

_Nothing._ Jon almost replied, but that wasn’t entirely true. “Would,” Jon blushed. “Would you please ride my face.”

Sansa flushed herself at Jon’s request, but she stood up, reaching down to hike her dress over her body, taking her underclothes with her, mumbling about it being too hot and wishing to not suffocate him with her dress, yet she seemed positively impatient for Jon’s desires, as much as she blushed at it. Jon only got a momentary glimpse of her body, yet he knew in that moment it would be seared into his memory forever. Jon shrugged off his own shirt, yet did not get his breeches off past undoing the top to let his cock have more room to expand. Sansa straddled Jon’s face, and he got to the most pleasurable business he had ever undertaken, coaxing her slickness into his mouth as she writhed above him, her hands splayed against the ice and raking through his hair and playing with her breasts as the sensation of pleasure overcame her. Jon lost count of the minutes and hours and peaks he drew from her, until she dismounted shakily, looking down to see his cock had emerged from his breeches over time. Sansa wrapped her delicate hand around his shaft, experimentally moving until she realised that the breeches were in her way, so she discarded them with haste, and despite his nakedness, Jon was hot all over as Sansa gently teased her thumb over the stickiness emerging from the tip of his cock, straddling Jon as she did so, seemingly enthralled by the way it was bucking in her hand as Jon clenched his teeth to stop from groaning aloud at the sensation.

Sansa raised her knees up and looked Jon in the eye. “It doesn’t count if it doesn’t go in,” Sansa proposed, biting her lip as she finished.

“Aye.” Jon shakily agreed. “It doesn’t count if it doesn’t go in.”

The sensation of her wet cunny slicking up the shaft of his cock was a pleasure beyond anything Jon had felt before, save perhaps exploring the nooks of her quim with his mouth, and Sansa seemed to feel the same way, the swivelling of her hips causing her cunt to erratically swipe along his cock as pleasure overtook metronomic routine; Sansa leaned over as Jon groped her arse, being sure not to disturb any bandages on her body, and Jon eagerly accepted her pink nipples into his mouth, laving and sucking on her breasts as she reached another peak, her legs squeezing around his hips as the juices from her cunny soaked onto his cock, her bud at the top of her flower peaking so Jon’s cock could almost kiss it as it swiped past it.

“I want you inside me so badly.” Sansa huffed as Jon sucked her teat into his mouth, releasing it with a pop. 

“I want to _be_ inside you so much, Sansa, but _we can’t.”_ Jon replied, holding onto her hips as his cock kissed her clit. Sansa bucked up and screamed with ecstasy, and Jon finally spent, shooting his seed over her exquisite body, past and along her gorgeous cunt and splattering the underside of her breasts with his sticky seed. Sansa did not seem to mind, groaning as she pressed her body into his, kissing Jon deeply and with primal intensity.

The dawn broke above them, and they split apart, in silent contemplation they watched the sun’s rays present a new light to them, and once they cleaned themselves up, they knew they would be satisfied with this one night of getting their unnatural cravings and desires out of their system.

They would behave as they always had - completely platonic siblings. 


End file.
